


Like the Dead

by LucindaAM



Series: My Guilty Pleasure One-Shots [19]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst if you consider it so?, F/M, Fluff, Light Swearing, Multi, No Smut, Pure freaking fluff, Steve and Bucky panicking, established relationships - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:46:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29456955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucindaAM/pseuds/LucindaAM
Summary: "You sleep like the dead, doll."A fluffy Fic. XD
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, Steve Rogers/Reader
Series: My Guilty Pleasure One-Shots [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1997734
Comments: 8
Kudos: 74





	Like the Dead

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mrsxfredweasley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrsxfredweasley/gifts).



Steve smiled down at you and brushed your hair out of your face. He couldn’t help himself as he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. “Good morning, sweetheart.” He mumbled, waiting for you to open your pretty eyes and smile up at him lazily. 

You didn’t. 

Steve frowned and ran his thumbs gently under your eyes and nudged your shoulder gently. “Sweetheart?” You didn’t even burrow deeper into the covers like you normally did. 

“Sweetheart?!” Steve was practically yelling now, but still, you didn’t stir. “BUCKY GET THE HELL IN HERE!” 

It took less than a second for Bucky to race through the bedroom door, gun drawn, eyes frantic. Steve didn’t give him a chance to ask what was wrong before he was frantically waving at your prone form. “She’s not waking up!” 

Bucky was moving again before Steve had finished his sentence. He raced to you and turned you onto your back, his fingers tracing down your neck until he found your pulse. It was slow, but steady. He let out a breath of relief, his head slumping forward. “She’s alive.” He rasped. For a horrifying minute, images of you being lowered into a grave, cold and grey filled his mind but the steady rhythm of your pulse under his fingers soothed him back to reality. Bucky moved his fingers from your throat and reached up to grab your shoulder. He shook you. “Doll.” Your eyes didn’t even flutter. “Doll?” He shook you harder. You were too limp in his hands. “DOLL?!” He shook you so hard, Steve was worried you were going to get whiplash. 

“Stop, Buck! You’re going to hurt her!” Steve pulled you out of Bucky’s arms and into his own. His eyes washed over you, looking for something, anything, but you didn’t so much as whimper. He glanced back up at Bucky. “We need Bruce.” He said, already pushing to his feet, cradling you gently in his arms. 

Steve raced out the door, Bucky right on his feet. They flew through the compound until they ended up just outside Bruce’s lab. The scientist looked up as they burst in. “She’s not waking up!” Steve said, holding you out like an offering. 

Bruce glanced between the two super soldiers with wide eyes before he turned his attention to you. “FRIDAY?” 

A matrix of light shot down from the ceiling and danced over your body. As it did so, complex scans of your body appeared in midair next to Bruce. His brows furrowed as he flicked through the screens. Steve watched him carefully. You were still cradled tightly in his arms. He was unwilling to set you down anywhere until he knew you were safe. Beside him, Bucky held one of your limp hands in his. His eyes were glued to your face as he stroked a hand through your hair and muttered to you in soothing Russian. Steve wasn’t sure what Bucky would do if they lost you. He didn’t want to find out. 

“Dr. Banner?” He asked. 

Bruce glanced up sharply as though just remembering that you all were still in the room. “Oh. Sorry, she’s fine.” His eyes turned back to the scans, his brow furrowing further. 

Steve took a grim step forward. “ _Fine_?” His voice was low and full of threat. 

Bruce glanced up again at the sound of it. He swallowed hard at the look on Steve’s face, but nodded slowly. “She . . . uh . . . she’s . . . physically there’s nothing wrong . . .” 

“Then. Why. The. Hell. Won’t. She. Wake. Up?” Bucky asked, stepping away from you to palm a dagger. 

Bruce held up both his hands and took a step backwards. “Physically, she’s fine. Her brain scans are good. Her body is in perfect working order. She’s _f_ _ine._ Probably just exhausted.” 

“ _Exhausted_?” Bucky took another threatening step forward as if this was somehow Bruce’s fault. 

Bruce nodded. “She expended a lot of magic on that last mission, didn’t she? Just let her rest. She’ll wake up when she’s ready.” 

Bucky and Steve exchanged a look. Bucky’s face was painted with murder. He’d clearly already come up with at least a dozen different ways to kill Bruce and make it look like an accident. Steve was more hesitant but the limp weight of you in his arms was making him lean more towards Bucky’s plans. 

At the last second, he shook his head. “Let’s go, Bucky.” 

Bucky raised his knife slightly, but Steve just shook his head. “Later.” 

The two left with you still cradled in Steve’s arms and a question of what exactly the ‘later’ was for. 

Two days. 

It took two damn days. 

Steve and Bucky’s eyes were glued to you the whole time. 

Finally, after the longest forty-eight hours of their lives, your eyes fluttered open and you yawned. A lazy smile painted your lips as you turned your head to see your boys sitting beside your bed. “Mornin’, fellas.” You smirked. 

Steve let out a long sigh of relief before he turned to the small table you kept in the room for the times he was up late doing paperwork and you were exhausted, but you didn’t want him to leave you alone. He wrapped his hands around the edges of it and with a simple flick of his wrists, you now had a small table embedded in the drywall of your room. 

Steve stalked out of the room without a backwards glance as you shot up in bed, your jaw dropping. You turned to Bucky. “What the hell was that for?!” You demanded. 

Bucky pushed to his feet and flexed his head from side to side, working out the kinks in his neck before he turned a glare on you. “You sleep like the dead, doll.” He bit out before he turned and followed Steve out of the room. 

You gaped at his retreating back. 

“You knew that!” You called out the open doorway. “You’ve always known that!” 

A slamming door was your response. 

You flopped back down on the bed and crossed your arms over your chest. “What a bunch of overreacting assholes.” You whined. 

You gave yourself another minute to wallow before a yawn tugged at your lips. You listened hard for the sounds of your assholes, but the apartment was silent. You shrugged a shoulder and rolled back over in bed, pulling the covers over your head. “Maybe just five more minutes.” You mumbled. 

You slept another two days. 

**Author's Note:**

> Not gonna lie. I've done this to my family before. It's not that irregular for them to send me texts asking if I'm still alive. Not that it would solve anything if I had "moved on" as it were. XD Oh well.


End file.
